Second to None
by Catheryne
Summary: To get over Chuck, Blair finds a new romance in France. Meanwhile, Nate and Chuck both race to rekindle the flame they have with her. Mainly Chuck/Blair, with Blair/Marcus and Blair/Nate
1. Chapter 1

Second to None

Pairing: Chuck/Blair

Spoilers: Season 1 is fair game.

Teaser: She didn't always walk alone.

Part 1

It wasn't always like this. She didn't always walk alone. Her father used to be her constant companion until he fell in love with Roman and left her with her mom. And then it had been Nate, until he woke up one day and realized that he had fallen in love with the friend who wasn't her. Serena had tried, and they walked to school together most mornings until she too fell in love.

Blair had always been a romantic, and so when she was younger she would climb the library stairs and read lyrical poems written by some sad men and lonely women from centuries ago that told stories and stories about how love was the answer to all the questions of the universe. But Blair found out the exact opposite. When anyone in her life fell in love, she got abandoned.

Chuck must have loved her then. He never said anything about the word. Chuck Bass would probably break out in hives if he used that word. But it was the only explanation that Blair could come up with as the reason that Chuck Bass abandoned her when there had not been anything wrong. They had been the happiest they had ever been—certainly happier than they were during their secret affair last year and most definitely happier than she had been at any point in her relationship with Nate.

That could have been the problem. Blair let herself be so happy that she had forgotten that everything had to be done in moderation.

That was a laugh, she thought. Nothing that involved Chuck Bass could ever be managed to moderation.

And now she found herself in self-imposed exile just because she could not bear the thought of coming home. Her best friend asked her to come with her to the Hamptons after finding out that her summer vacation had gone awry. They stayed away from the subject of the stepbrother who had only just moved back into their family suite. As Blair talked about her stay in her father's country house and vineyard, and Serena told her all about her plans at the Hamptons, Chuck's name always hung above them despite their efforts to avoid mentioning the name. Even with Serena's prodding, Blair decided it would be best to stay as far away from him as possible for as long as possible.

She pedaled through the field in her yellow bike. Blair's skirt whipped around her legs and the wind caught in her hair and blew through it that she was just so certain that she would end up looking like she had a fluffy brown cloud around her head by the time she got home. For the first time, she didn't care. The first thing she chucked when she got her room was her headband. In place of it, she gathered her hair in a ponytail and decided that here in France, she wasn't going to be a queen or a princess or a fairy tale victim. She was just going to be young.

The entire morning as she rode her bike through the fields, she felt the cathartic effects of having the wide sky above her without concrete buildings blocking it out. It was different and unsettling. It made her feel small. And for once, it made the hovering figure of Chuck Bass even smaller by comparison.

She turned the bike and found a particularly rocky path. Blair would have turned around and used the same path, but she had been doing that her entire life and, without slowing down, she surged forward and screamed in delight as her speed picked up. Suddenly she was freely ripping through the fields. As suddenly as the velocity picked up, Blair found herself flying through the air. She hit the ground hard, fortunately just past the rocky path.

She lay facedown on the ground, gasping, her hair all over her face and her skirt probably thrown up around her thighs.

"Comment ca va?" came a low voice. Firm but gentle hands on her upper arms maneuvered her body so that she was lying on her back.

"Ouch," she managed. The side of her face burned. She squeezed her eyes shut and she felt the tears sipping out of her lids.

"Parles vous francais, mademoiselle?"

Then Blair felt herself being lifted off the ground and into strong arms. She winced at the pain and she clutched at his shirt. Blair opened her eyes and saw her savior, his face shadowed as he was silhouetted against the sun above him. "The vineyard—"

"My estate is very close," he explained calmly, so that she would not panic, switching for the vernacular that she seemed to prefer. "I will take you there. I've sent my man for a doctor."

Blair took several deep breaths. He did not sound dangerous, but one could never know. After all, she was being taken off her own property into his. "Pardon! Comment tu t'appelles?"

"Marcus." He cleared his throat, then emphasized, "Je parles anglais. I speak English."

Blair breathed a sigh of relief. Despite having had years of French tutoring, when stressed, it was still easier when you converse in your native tongue. "Marcus, please take me to the Waldorf house," she pleaded.

He stepped under the tree, and finally, Blair could see his face. Her lips parted at the sight. She would recognize those high cheekbones, noble nose, those warm eyes, anywhere. Even if it was five years since she had last seen them. Before she could speak, she saw his eyebrows furrow and he lifted her a little higher and tighter against his chest. "Blair Waldorf," he proclaimed with a smile, "all grown up, pixie."

"Marcus Beacham Rhodes." Blair ignored the pain on her face as she broke into a giant smile. "Little Lord Marcus." Her eyes scanned his face. "Not so little anymore."

Before Serena left for the Hamptons, she ran across Nate Archibald on the street. It was odd, seeing Nate again. Serena thought his beautiful eyes, which before held only discontent and loneliness, now showed that life happened, really happened—even to little boys born and reared with a silver spoon in his mouth. In many respects she was glad about what happened to the Archibald family. Nate's father's 

legal woes had thrust Nate into the role of a responsible adult who appreciated his friends and what life gave him, instead of what it did not.

"So," one of them said, "Blair and Chuck."

"As long as they're happy," Nate managed graciously.

And so it was no surprise to Serena when, as she was in her stepbrother's room glaring at him for all its worth, Nate burst through the door and strode towards Chuck.

"Nathaniel," Chuck greeted curtly.

He held his phone up to Chuck's face, and although Serena doubted that Chuck could read it, it seemed like Chuck had assumed correctly. "Where the hell do you get off discarding people like this?" Nate demanded. "I thought I was clear in the wedding."

"Leave it alone, Nate," Chuck murmured.

Nate scoffed. "The only reason I've been standing in the sidelines since then was that I thought you were really in love with her," he told his best friend. "Blair isn't like any of these girls." Chuck turned away, and Nate shook his head. "Have a nice life," he ended, then walked away.

"Wait," Serena called out. "What do you mean? I thought you were going to the Hamptons with me."

Nate stopped, then turned around to address Serena. "My mother thinks it's best for our reputation if we retire to the Vanderbilt estates."

Serena walked up to Nate and gripped his hand, suddenly very afraid of what will happen to a long time friend. "For how long?"

"Indefinitely."

She gasped. "Nate, the Vanderbilt estates are in France! You're just going to leave like this?"

Chuck swallowed heavily. "Nate—"

Nate held up his hand. "I don't want to hear it, Chuck."

But Chuck pushed on, "No matter what you might think, I did love Blair."

"Then you're pretty consistent," Nate said sarcastically. "You show me I'm your best friend by sleeping with my girlfriend; you show her you love her by abandoning her." He turned to Serena. "Bye, Serena. I—I'll call you, okay?"

Serena nodded, tearing up. As Nate closed the door behind him, Serena watched the expressions flit across her stepbrother's face. He winced when the door shut.

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Blair yawned and stretched her arms, blinking her eyes open and squinting against the bright sunlight streaming into the room. She stood up and slipped her feet into comfortable slippers. Blair picked up her robe and shrugged into it, then went to her walk in closet, inspecting some dresses that her mother had had sent to her from her Paris boutique.

She took a canary yellow tulip dress and slipped into it. She stood in front of the mirror assessing herself, and wondered if yellow was really her color. Blair suspected that it might make her look sallow, but before she could entertain those thoughts even more, she heard, "Blair, you look adorable."

She turned around and saw Roman standing by her bedroom door with Cat in his arms. "Thank you, Roman. Where's my father?"

"Downstairs preparing breakfast. He always wants to be the one to cook for you," Roman reminded his lover's daughter.

With a smile, Blair walked towards Roman, then playfully twirled. "Do you think it's good enough to impress a guy who's around royalty all the time?"

"Ahhh," Roman responded thoughtfully. "So we're talking about the next door neighbor. Your father told me that he dropped you off yesterday, like a perfect gentleman." Blair nodded. "You are lovelier than any princess, Blair. It's more than good enough."

She worried her lower lip. "I don't want him to think I'm trying too hard."

"Blair." Her eyes turned to her father, who was now standing behind Roman in a light blue apron. "I remember how he was yesterday when he took you home. He adores you just as much as he adored you when you were twelve. You don't need to worry."

"Oh daddy." Blair ran to her father's side and buried her face in his chest for a minute, before extricating herself. "Really?"

Harold tightened his arms around his daughter. He knew how much Blair needed this right now. He had pieced portions of the puzzle together through various calls from Serena and Nate, and managed to glean that Blair had been seeing Chuck Bass for about a week when the boy suddenly decided that he didn't want to see her anymore. Knowing his daughter, Harold could imagine how much that probably stung.

Harold grinned down at his daughter. "I think Marcus once told me that he thought you were a little angel."

She scrunched up her face. "That sounds like something an adoring older brother would say."

Roman placed his hands on Blair's upper arms. "He last saw you when you were twelve and he was fifteen. I'm thinking now, he sees you in a different light. And you've picked the perfect dress to stress your point."

Blair couldn't help but agree. She was a far cry from the gangly twelve year old she used to be. She grabbed an orange headband and placed it on her head.

"He's here for breakfast."

"So punctual," Roman commented. "What good manners."

Blair smiled, pleased. "Please tell him I will be down directly."

Harold and Roman nodded and went down the steps to make small talk with Marcus. After about fifteen minutes, Blair emerged.

"_Bonjour, monsieur_." Blair slightly bent her head.

Marcus stood up courteously and placed a kiss on her hard. "It hadn't been a good day for some time, isolated as I am in my chateau. That was until I saw you flying off your bike looking like an angel falling from the sky," he said pointedly.

Blair tried to stifle it, but she could not help herself and the giggle erupted from her chest. "Oh my God, Marcus! Does that line ever work?"

Roman looked shocked at Blair's response, but Harold merely shook his head with a grin. Marcus frowned, then shook his head. "It's the first time I said it."

Blair nodded and smiled. "Flatterer."

He extended his arm, and she slipped hers through it as they walked into the dining room. As Marcus easily answered her father's inquiries about his stay in France and his college life, Blair could not help but think about how perfect he was.

Chuck hadn't planned on snooping on his stepsister. The plan was simple. He was going to go to his room in the Hampton house, change out of his sandy shorts, and meet the Brazilian models at the bar. It wasn't until he noticed the Archibald towncar parked outside that Chuck consciously made his footsteps more stealthy. He made his way outside Serena's bedroom door. The moment he heard her name, Chuck held his breath and turned the knob. He listened in one the conversation.

"If you're confused about it, or you're not sure, please don't even consider it, Nate," Serena pleaded, her voice a little sad.

"That's just it, Serena," came Nate's excited voice. "I'm finally not confused about it anymore. I thought I didn't want it. I was scared. I didn't know anything else. I was into you, then I thought I was into Vanessa. But whatever it is, it just always fades into the background when I think about her."

"Nate, if this is just one of those—"

"It's not," he interrupted. "I don't know why it took me this long to figure it out." Nate chuckled. "But I finally got it. I'm in love with my girlfriend."

And Chuck's throat tightened a little at the relief he heard in Nate's voice.

"I'm all packed. My flight's in an hour," he told her. "That's why I'm here."

"To say goodbye?" Serena asked tentatively.

There was a deep breath, and knowing Nate, Chuck recognized the sound as Nate gathering courage. "I need it, Serena. I know she gave it to you."

"Nate, I don't want to screw up what she has there now."

"Please. This might be my only chance."

Chuck's jaw tightened. He looked down at his clenched fist and realized that he had not even thought to ask his stepsister—Blair's best friend—for the location of the Waldorf chateau. But then, Chuck had spent so long trying to not think of it, because if he got his hands on the address then he just knew he would find himself standing outside while Blair pointedly ignored him and Harold sicced dogs on him.

"Thank you," Nate breathed, and Chuck knew that Serena had once again given in to angelic eyes that seemed like they could do no wrong. "You won't regret this," he assured her.

"Nate!" Serena cried. "Blair's happy." There was a pause, and Chuck's eyebrows furrowed. The last he'd heard from Serena, Blair had been furious and lonely, and that was why Serena had repeatedly invited her to just come back to the States to spend time at the Hamptons with her best friend. "She's dating."

"She's not going to be happy with any French guy that she's just going to leave after summer's over."

This was new to Chuck, and despite knowing how much Serena had always said she despised him, Chuck could not help but feel betrayed that she did not share this bit of information. He pushed the door open. Thankfully, Nate was facing Serena with his back to him. But Serena could see him over Nate's shoulder, and he knew she recognized the look on his face.

"It's Marcus Beacham Rhodes," Serena finally admitted.

Chuck let out a harsh breath. Just when he thought Nate was finally out of the picture, and he did not need to compete with the image of the perfect gentleman, he finds out in one day that he would now need to prepare himself for the combined barrage of perfection from Nate and his blue-blooded counterpart.

Blair Waldorf had only ever once, in the ten years that she had been dating Nate, been the one to initiate a breakup. When they were twelve years old, they had spent a summer vacationing in Britain because Blair and Serena had wanted to see castles that they had read about in a romance novel that she had discovered in Dorota's bedroom, and Chuck and Nate had decided that they wanted to see the sports festival where large men threw big tree trunks as far as they could.

_One day, on Lily van der Woodsen's turn of babysitting them, they had been sitting in an outdoor table of a restaurant in London. Lily was with a travel agent figuring out what sights to go to before they made the trip to Scotland the next day. Chuck and Nate were poring over the menu and arguing who would win a javelin throwing contest between the two of them. While Serena and Blair were whispering to each other about the prince in the romance novel who was actually a pirate, a towncar stopped in front of the restaurant and a young man, wearing a dark blue suit, climbed out._

"_Lord Marcus!" called out an elderly gentleman._

_Blair's gaze turned to the newcomer. 'Lord Marcus' stood still at the entrance and met her gaze. Her breath caught in her throat when he gave her a smile and a nod._

"_He's so handsome," Serena whispered into her ear._

_Blair stood up and walked over to him. The young man bowed at the waist. "Good morning." He extended a hand. "Lord Marcus Beacham Rhodes."_

"_Blair Cornelia Waldorf," she returned, shaking his hand. She noticed that Serena had walked up to them and Blair could not help but feel a little spiteful, because Serena's hair was loose around her face and this new boy would just think Serena was prettier._

_A stiff older woman appeared beside Marcus and frowned down at the two girls. "Marcus, the earl is waiting inside."_

"_Mother, meet Blair Cornelia Waldorf."_

_Blair smiled up prettily at Marcus' mom. To her surprise, the older woman's frown vanished. In its place was a flash of recognition. "Blair. Harold's girl."_

"_I'm Serena van der Woodsen." Serena stuck her hand out to Marcus, who politely shook it._

"_Where are your parents, Blair?"_

"_They're back in the States, Mrs Beacham," Blair answered. When she saw that Marcus was still staring at her, she blushed._

_Mrs Beacham's eyes flitted over to Blair's companions and recognized Lily van der Woodsen. She made her way over to the table. "Lily, I didn't know you were in town."_

_Lily van der Woodsen looked up and saw her ex-husband's old acquaintance. "Madeline, it's good to see you."_

_The children watched as Lily greeted her old friend, but she did not sound like Madeline Beacham was really an old friend. _

"_How long are you here for?"_

"_Not long," Lily answered quickly. "We're leaving for Scotland tonight. The children have plans."_

"_Ma'am, can Blair Waldorf have breakfast with me?"_

_At that, both Chuck and Nate looked up and assessed the young man. They looked him up and down, and felt underdressed. _

"_Oh Marcus," Lily replied, recognizing the boy as Madeline and Alfred Beacham Rhodes' only son and heir. It was not difficult to guess, given the valet that was standing ready behind him to give assistance when needed, and the two other men serving as his security, by the suspicious looks they were giving at everyone passing by. "Blair's parents aren't here. I really think that letting Blair go off with other people is not going to be received well."_

_Marcus looked at his mother expectantly._

"_Jeanine," Madeline called curtly._

"_Yes, madam." A young lady stepped out from behind one of the security guards and handed the phone over to Madeline. "He's on the line." Lily could not help but think about how efficient she was._

_Madeline held the phone to her ear. "Harold, darling! There's a lovely surprise at breakfast—Lilly van der Woodsen with a few kids—and I need a favor. Marcus apparently thinks your daughter is an angel and wants to spend time with her. Brilliant! I'll hand you over to her." She gave the phone to Lily, who listened for a few minutes before hanging up._

_Lily returned to phone to Madeline, but it was Jeanine who took it. Lily smiled at Blair, "It looks like you'll get to spend the day with your new friend."_

_Chuck's eyes followed Marcus's hand when it closed around Blair's. "Thank you, Mrs van der Woodsen."_

_When the Beacham-Rhodes dropped Blair off at the hotel that night, she smiled at Nate and told him, "I think we should stop dating for a while."_

"Is it serious?" Nate managed.

"I don't know. Apparently, neither of them knew that they were both in France. Blair had a slight accident with her bike while she was there. From what I can gather, Marcus scooped her up in his arms and took her home."

Every word was like the slash of a knife to Chuck. He knew Serena just didn't want to admit it to Nate, but they all knew Blair and that kind of first meeting meant Blair would be walking on air for a long time. It seemed like it was right out of an old romantic movie.

"They've just been dating for two weeks," Serena offered as consolation. "It can't be that serious."

Two weeks was long enough to make it serious to Chuck when it was him.

"You're right," Nate answered. "Two weeks is nothing compared to ten years."

Chuck scowled at that and walked out of Serena's room. He stepped into his room and quickly stripped off his shirt, then stepped under the shower. When he finished and toweled off, he stepped outside the bathroom and saw his stepsister sitting on his bed. Had he been in a better mood, he would have been able to give a snide comment. Instead, he proceeded to his closet and selected an outfit. As he shrugged on his shirt, he turned to Serena and arched an eyebrow.

"He's gone."

"Good riddance," Chuck muttered. "Hope Marcus lays him a big one."

"Chuck," Serena said, as if she were pleading.

Chuck slid on his pants, then grinned at his stepsister. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have hot Latinas waiting." He made his way to the door.

"She's looking into schools in Paris." Chuck stopped at her words. "I need your help, Chuck. I can't lose my best friend. We're already going to lose Nate. We can't lose anyone else."

Chuck gritted his teeth. "If she wants to stay in France with Lord Marcus—" He cursed, then made his way back to his closet. He threw several shirts and pants onto the bed. Serena watched in awe as Chuck created a couple of piles of clothes. "Get your butt moving, sis," Chuck commanded. "Grab a bag and pack everything you can."

Chuck dialed his father's phone and placed it on speaker. Serena heard the call roll into voicemail.

"Dad, I'm taking the company jet. Before you get pissed off, I'm saying it now. I'm sorry. I have to do this." Chuck hung up the phone, then turned to Serena with his hand open. "The address."

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

Nate gazed at her from a distance, watching move around smoothly through the groups of people in the large ballroom. He had seen this only in movies that were made out of the assigned classical books that he had been too lazy to read. When he had arrived in Nice and asked his mother to help him get in touch with Blair, his Vanderbilt clan, who had adored Blair Waldorf since she was five, had immediately placed him in a car heading towards the Waldorf vineyard.

It had been easy to track her down afterwards. What had been a challenge was the fact that he had been unprepared. He was informed that Marcus had dropped by to pick Blair up for a party. When he informed Harold Waldorf bravely that he was going after her right then, Roman had snickered and gestured towards his attire with a shake of his head.

And so Nate now found himself in one of Roman's modeled suits, staring at a girl that had been on his arm for a decade now on the arm of another guy. And she had never looked lovelier to him. Her dark curls were arranged high, with loose locks falling gently to cover her ears. The necklace looked oddly familiar, and he remembered her wearing it during her debutante ball. Nate decided then that the day they got back together, he would get her a new necklace, maybe with a bird pendant with ruby eyes, symbolizing their love like a phoenix rising from the ashes. He chuckled. That was too sappy, even for him. She smiled up at Marcus and Nate thought she looked so innocent.

Blair scanned the room, and nodded at people as Marcus pointed them out to her. When before, the old fashioned sense of courtesy suffocated him, it now impressed Nate. When her eyes fell on him, he saw her eyes grow wide.

Nate held her gaze and nodded slowly, to acknowledge her. Blair disengaged her arm from her escort's, then started running towards him. She met him halfway through the ballroom, and then threw herself at him. Nate caught her in his arms and held her against him.

"I can't believe you're here!" she declared.

Before he could answer, Marcus stopped behind her and placed a hand on the small of her back. "It looks like you've finally recognized someone that I don't need you tell you about." He extended his hand towards Nate. "Marcus Beacham Rhodes."

Blair pulled away from Nate. "I'm sorry. Marcus, meet Nate Archibald."

Marcus broke into a smile as Nate shook his hand. "I've met you," he greeted warmly. "When you were a little boy."

Nate grinned. "As little as Blair Waldorf when you met her."

Blair's eyebrows rose. Marcus was three years older, but Nate made it sound like he was ancient. "What are you doing here, Nate?" Nate smiled then, as perfectly white and safe and attractive as 

his smile when she first swooned over him. Blair grinned right back. "Wait. Is that Roman's GQ cover suit?"

Marcus cocked his head to the side and studied the suit. "It does look magnificent."

Blair placed a hand on Marcus' arm. Nate followed the gesture with his eyes. "I was hoping that I could steal you for a dance. I did fly all the way from the States," he pointed out.

Ever the gentleman, Marcus motioned to Blair. "Whatever the lady wants."

Blair nodded and placed her hand in Nate's proffered hand. "Thank you, Marcus."

"Of course, cherie."

Nate placed a hand on her waist and took her hand in his. Blair glanced towards Marcus' retreating figure and found that he had only walked to the sidelines. Marcus took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. When he noticed that she was looking, he lifted the flute towards her in a toast. Blair smiled, then turned back to Nate.

"He's a pretty nice guy," was Nate's comment.

Blair nodded. "He is," she murmured. "He reminds me of you from before, you know."

"Before?" Nate inquired.

Blair rolled her eyes. "You know," she emphasized. Nate shook his head. "Before. When you were younger and not gloomy all the time. Before you found out you were more in love with Serena and started acting like you're bummed about life."

"I want to talk to you about that—"

Blair waved dismissively. "It's all in the past." She then looked at Nate as if she was studying him. "Really, Nate. What brings you here?"

It was conversation that Nate would continue, when Marcus Beacham Rhodes was not watching their every move. He was certain he could convince Blair to spend some time with him without the disgustingly perfect aristocrat. For now, he would be the old friend. "I'm a Vanderbilt," he said simply. "It was time to show up here or else my mom's family would've forgotten me. I don't want to be written off the will. Given the state of my dad's finances, I can't afford to miss out on this."

Blair's eyebrow arched, and she laughed at the ridiculous statement. "Your grandfather worships you. You're the only grandson. I highly doubt they would deny you the Vanderbilt coffers."

Nate grinned. "You make us sound medieval."

Blair shrugged. "I caught your lie," she stated simply. "Now why are you here?"

"My mom wants me to consider moving here," he told her honestly. "After the scandal with my dad, she thinks moving back to France may be her only choice."

"Wow," she whispered. She smiled sadly. "I'll miss you." Blair moved closer to him and laid her cheek on his shoulder.

Nate inhaled the scent of her shampoo. "Well, at least we have the whole summer together."

"This is so sad." Blair burrowed deeper against him. "Who knew after dating for more than a decade, we were going to end up like this?" She sniffled.

"Hey, hey," Nate protested softly. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Blair."

She shook her head and moved out of his arms. "Sorry. I guess I'm just emotional at the thought. It's the end of our breakfast club." Her hand reached up to touch her necklace.

He was worried that she would break the chain, given how tightly she started to grip it. Nate reached up to remove her hand from the necklace, twined her fingers in his, then squeezed. "We have the rest of the summer, Blair," Nate reminded her. "And I wish you'd spend most of it with me. For old time's sake."

Blair turned her head and saw Marcus watching them with concern. "Marcus and I were planning on going to London for the weekend," she mentioned tentatively. She then looked down at where Nate's fingers were linked with hers. "But these are extenuating circumstances. I'm sure he'd understand."

She started at the hand on her shoulder. She turned around and saw Marcus smiling down at her. Blair extricated her hand from Nate's. Nate could not help but notice the way her hand flew to her throat, and her fingers grazed the necklace again. "Marcus, I'm glad you're here. It looks like I won't be able to go to London with you this weekend."

"We've been planning this for a week, Blair. I don't want to have to remind you of how difficult it was to get your father's permission."

She looked apologetic when she continued. "I'm so sorry! These are going to be my last weeks with Nate. He's moving here permanently," she explained.

Marcus looked at Nate, and there was none of the warm welcome that he had earlier that night. "Is that so?" he inquired, his voice laced with some suspicion.

"I'm sorry, man," Nate expressed.

Marcus' lips curved, reaching for Blair and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "It's fine, Blair. After all, when school starts, you won't see him anymore."

"That's true," Nate continued.

Blair nodded. "And you'll be right around the corner."

Nate's smile faded as Marcus agreed. "Who knew deciding to have a semester off to intern at the United Nations office in Manhattan was going to be the best decision I've made in my life." Nate watched as Marcus lifted Blair's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. This was just fantastic, he thought.

"If you'll excuse us, Blair has a curfew with Mr Waldorf." Marcus gestured over to a group of middle-aged women tittering in the corner. "I believe Comtesse dela Croix know the Vanderbilts. You may want to say hello."

"Bye, Nate."

Nate watched as Marcus Beacham Rhodes led his ex-girlfriend across the ballroom and out the large doors. He officially hated Lord Marcus even more intensely than he did when he was twelve. He suddenly wished Chuck was here, no matter what their disagreements were. Chuck would know how to bring Lord Marcus' pansy ass down.

tbc


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

She floated into the chateau. Blair was ecstatic. She wondered if anyone could observe the skip in her step. That was ridiculous, she thought, grinning. There was no one here. Her father and Roman would have retired to their room hours ago. The night was amazing. Marcus was perfect, of course, as to be expected. She truly knew how to choose a man. Her grin faded. There was just that one time when her wonderful talent faltered. But enough of that. She shouldn't dwell on bad memories.

Blair walked up the stairs, wondering when she could meet up with Marcus again. She had been looking forward to her weekend in London with Marcus. He had told her he had such great plans for them. She stopped in front of the French doors at the upper landing and pushed them wide open. Blair walked onto the veranda and breathed in the cool breeze. Finally, her life was getting organized. And it only took a summer in France!

She took another deep breath, expecting the same fresh air but sucked in something familiar and horrific instead. Blair started coughing at the unexpected cigarette smoke. She glared at the darkness beside her and found the source—a dark, shadowy figure sitting on the cement railing.

"Roman?" she asked, but realized then that it was ridiculous to do so. Roman did not smoke; neither did her father.

At that, Blair stumbled backwards and took a deep breath, then started screaming.

The dark figure jumped off the railing and jumped towards her. "Wait, no, no, no."

The moment the figure stepped into the moonlight, Blair's breath caught in her throat. "Chuck!" she exclaimed.

"Who did you expect it was?" he shouted back.

"Definitely not you!" Blair cried out, then swatted him on the chest. "What the hell did you think you were doing lurking in the dark like some common criminal?"

"I came to visit you. You should be flattered."

She gave him a look of disgust. "Please, Chuck. I have no idea why you think that your presence is welcome here."

Roman and her father arrived running, with Roman clutching a marble rolling pin in his hands. Behind them was a blinking Serena, still rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"What is it, Blair?" her father asked frantically. "Did you see a robber?"

Blair gritted her teeth. "No. Dad, you couldn't have texted me that Chuck Bass is here?" She then flashed a smile at her best friend. She waved. "Hey, S!"

Harold sighed in relief, then patted Roman's arm so that the younger man would lower his baking implement slash weapon. "They arrived late tonight. Bart and Lily called and asked for us to let them stay in the chateau."

Blair narrowed her eyes, then turned to Chuck. "I thought you had better things to do."

"What can I say?" He gave her a flirtatious smirk. "I couldn't stay away."

Assured that there was no cause for worry, Harold and Roman made their way back up the stairs and into their room. Meanwhile, Serena walked over to Blair and gave her a hug. "We'll talk in the morning?" the blonde whispered into her friend's ear.

"Yeah, you go to bed. I'm coming up in a few."

When the rest had left, Blair turned back to Chuck, who had resumed his sitting position on the railing. "Nate's here."

"I know," Chuck muttered.

"Why didn't you go to the ball with him?"

"We didn't come together," was his quick reply.

"He's here for good. He's moving."

"Then why isn't he in the Vanderbilt estates?"

"Why are you here?" she countered. "When you're in France, you're a Paris bum. There's nothing for you to do here in the country, stuck in a vineyard like this."

His smile was easy, and he was forthcoming with his answer. There was no point in lying to her. He'd been honest with her since their first attempt at a relationship. He saw no reason to hide his agenda now. "I'm here to take you back to the States," he informed her, stepping so close to her she could smell the cigarette on him. "You weren't meant to spend your entire summer alone, Blair."

Her heart skipped a beat from his confession. Breathless, but unwilling to give him full control because of how he had betrayed her, she told him, "Good thing I'm not spending it alone. As it happens, I'm with a guy far more of a gentleman than either you or Nate."

He bared his teeth, still angered by the fact that she had immediately started dating someone else after one little screw up—alright, maybe not so little. But he didn't even give him time to repent or apologize. She always gave Nate the chance to make it up to her. Why didn't he get the same privilege? "I know," he said simply.

Her eyebrow arched. "You do?" she repeated pointedly.

"Marcus Beacham Rhodes," he snarled.

"Well you're certainly updated."

"You know me, Waldorf." He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, then breathed deeply. "You know how meticulous I can be when I've set my sights on someone."

"I'm not a prey." She snatched her hand back, then started back up towards the second flight of stairs.

Chuck looked back out towards the moonlit vineyard and shook her head. She had to know that he wouldn't miss the necklace she was wearing. Blair Waldorf may have been out in a date with a damn near perfect gentleman, but it was still Chuck wrapped around her throat. He turned back to the house and saw Blair halfway up the steps. "Waldorf!"

She turned around, one foot already on the next step. Blair frowned when he did not speak. Chuck made his way up to her and held onto her upper arm. When they were almost at the same level, he placed his other hand on her cheek. Blair could not move. His head lowered and to Blair, she was breathing in the air he breathed out. It was so intimate and she felt her eyes drifting shut. She felt the warmth of his lips on hers and she could not help but respond. She felt herself pressing her lips back on his. Her lips parted and she felt his warm, moist tongue make its way into her mouth. He tasted like cigarettes and scotch, so strange to her but at the same time so familiar. When they parted, and she opened her eyes, her heart fluttered at the sight of him trying to catch his breath.

Her trembling fingers rose to touch her lips. He was staring at her so tenderly and the look on his face was so—Now she was angry. He had no right to look at her like that after abandoning her and cheating on her. She would have pushed him, but if he fell down the stairs she was going to have to take care of him because she'd feel too guilty if he broke his leg. Instead of releasing her frustration by physically injuring him, Blair growled at him, then turned on her heel. She gathered up her party dress in her hands so that she could run up without tripping. How embarrassing would it be to trip during this dramatic exit?

"Sleep tight, princess!" he called up to her, mocking her, she was sure.

Blair pushed open the door of her room and stumbled inside, slamming the door shut and leaning her head back against it. "Dammit!" she cried out, and stomped her foot on the floor. "This is not fair at all." She had just moved one step forward with Marcus. Just when she was about to take another step with him, she had to cancel because she had to spend time with Nate. And now, with that kiss that Chuck forced on her—and was it really force?—yes, yes, yes—her connection with Chuck was once again that much more forward than hers with Marcus. How was it ever going to catch up?

She threw herself on her bed and buried her face in the blankets. Blair grabbed a pillow and covered her head, then muffled a scream. Then came the bright idea. She turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

Nate was bound to forgive her.

She stumbled over to the edge of the bed and reached for her discarded bag. Blair took out her phone and sent a text message to Marcus.

**M coming to London. Hope u saved me a seat. B**

**Wonderful. M**

Blair smiled. That settled it. She then searched for Nate's name in the contact list.

**Raincheck on hangin out. C u Monday? B**

**:-( Y? N**

**Gave my word. Promise. Lots of fun nxt wk, k? B**

**Can't wait. N**

She placed the phone under her pillow, and she fell asleep with a smile.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

He absolutely hated opera. But here he was, with a small pair of binoculars trained on one of the theater house boxes. He could see her figure glittering softly in one of her millions of dresses. She laughed softly with Marcus; she shone; she was a figure in a dream. Chuck despised the sight of her this happy while holding on to someone else's arm. An actress screeched her lines into a crescendo from the stage. Chuck winced. Even the dates Marcus took her to were boring, but he supposed to Blair, this was wonderfully sophisticated. He set his jaw and gritted his teeth as he wondered what kind of reward she was going to give Marcus after he took her to the most exclusive and pretentious theatrical performance in London. Chuck even thought he saw the queen in one of the boxes. With Blair and Marcus chuckling softly at each other, he doubted they were even listening. Even with his rough knowledge of Italian, Chuck could tell this was an agonizing story. The fat lady was abandoned by her lover and she was then screeching out that she wanted to fling herself off the belltower. Why the hell were Marcus and Blair so happy and cozy?

It was no surprise that they went directly to a society party afterwards. Marcus seemed like the type. He probably haunted these parties every night in London and introduced himself as a freaking lord to tap some debutante ass. He just better not be planning on tapping the debutante ass that already belonged to Chuck.

He saw her make her way towards the stairs. With a grim smile, he climbed the stairs after her. She turned the corner towards what he assumed was the way towards the private bathrooms.

"Blair!" he called after her.

She turned around slowly, registered his presence, then rolled his eyes. "You're stalking me!" she complained.

"Don't be so self-absorbed. Maybe I'm not here for you."

Blair rolled her eyes. "I fell asleep with you in the next room in my father's French chateau, and now you're in London in Marcus' grandmother's house," she pointed out sarcastically. "Oh yeah, we just happened to run into each other. Tell me the name of at least one person here that you know," Blair demanded to drive her point across. At his playful grin, she added, "Besides me."

"I know Marcus Beacham Rhodes. Known him since I was a little kid."

"Aaargh," she groaned in frustration. "I don't want to play, Chuck."

Pity, because I wanna play with you all night long."

The fire sparking in her eyes suddenly died. "Figures," she said, turning around towards the bathroom.

Chuck's eyebrows furrowed. He wondered what he said then to disappoint her again, because he knew her enough by now to recognize that change. When she realized he'd followed her to London, she'd been pissed off as hell, but he could tell that she was intrigued as well. And then just as suddenly, the excitement vanished.

He leaned back against the wall and waited for her to step outside. When she did, she smiled briefly at him, then said, "Well, Chuck, I'm not going to play with you so you better just go back to the States and your endless line of women."

He took a deep breath. Of course. He walked over close to her, so close that he felt the warmth of her body on his. She had freshened up, but he could tell from this distance that underneath the perfectly applied makeup were red eyes. "Were you crying?"

"At an amazing party where I get to see the princes down eight flute of champagne in an hour?" she laughed. "Don't be stupid."

"Do you really think I flew from New York to a countryside in France to an opera in London just to play?" he asked softly. Blair met his eyes, and he allowed the walls to fall, so she could see what he really meant. "The entire time we were together I never touched anyone else. Does that sound like playing to you, Blair? I don't even recognize myself."

And the words were too good, the way he looked at her felt so wonderful, that Blair almost caved. But then there was a flicker in his gaze. "You're lying," she said calmly. "Chuck, don't make this harder. I've made it so easy on you. I'm not going to run after you to try to make something impossible work. I made that mistake with Nate and I got stomped on and dragged around. I'm not going to make the same mistake with you."

"Someone told you about Amelia," he sighed. "It was nothing, Blair!"

Then tears filled her eyes. "Who's Amelia?" she whispered. Chuck realized the slip. He took her arms in her hands. Blair stepped back and extricated herself from his hold. She wrapped her arms around herself. He opened his mouth, but then she shook her head violently. "No!" she cried out. "Never mind. I don't want to know."

In a quick move, Chuck grasped her arms and pulled her to him. He took her lips and tasted strawberries, chocolate and champagne. And all Blair Waldorf the way she used to be in his arms. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss briefly, because she missed him and everything was bottled up inside. And then they parted, breathless. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "I missed that," he said.

The words snapped her out of the trance. She pushed him away with all her strength. Chuck stumbled backwards. An angry red flush climbed up her neck to her cheeks. "You don't fix everything with that!"

"You certainly seemed to enjoy it."

She looked at him with disgust. "It's not that easy. I've moved on with a fabulous guy who actually respects me."

"I said it once and I'll say it again," he told her, his voice cool and smooth. "You don't give up in the face of true love."

Blair raised her head and looked him in the eye. "And I'll say this now. Give up, Chuck. You don't know what true love means, or else we wouldn't be in this situation now."

"You forgave Nathaniel so many times suspected you were insane. Hell, you forgave him for sleeping with your best friend!" Chuck said in disbelief. "But with me… You can't forgive me this one thing?"

"Whatever he did never hurt like this," she told him simply.

Chuck flinched, then watched her turn away from him and walk back down the stairs. His heart started sinking. Her last words repeated themselves in his head. He blinked. Whatever Nate did hurt less than a possible other girl and his abandoning her for their trip. Nate neglected her, put her at the last of his priorities at every turn, slept with her best friend, deceived her with the possibility of getting back together to help his family, used a childhood sweetheart's token to get what he wanted, then turned his back on her when she made one mistake. All that, and Chuck hurt her more?

His dying heart came alive with a glimmer of hope.

There had to be something real between them if he can do that much damage.

He straightened then made his way down the stairs. At the landing, he stopped and surveyed the room. Sure, he went to the party without knowing anyone. But he had been to too many of his father's business negotiations in international destinations to not presume one or two he could recognize. He desperately wished that on some of those occasions he hadn't been drunk. Memory tends to fail when your brain was floating in booze.

"It's Charles Bass."

He turned to greet the older woman who stopped in front of him. He frantically searched his memory bank for a name.

"Petra, who is it?" he heard the woman's companion say.

"Mrs Petra Bertinov," Chuck said. The woman lifted her hand and Chuck graciously kissed the back of it.

"It's Charles, Reginald," Petra introduced. "Bart's son. And here he is all grown up." Chuck shook the man's hand. "What brings you to London?"

Chuck gave her a trademark smirk. "I dropped by to catch a show and saw the lights. I thought… what the hell. A party's a party."

Petra threw her head back, laughing appreciatively at the joke. "You have the same sense of humor as your father!" Chuck found the statement odd, but Petra was his ticket to move around. "You're from Manhattan, no?" He nodded. "I think you might know a young woman that one of our bachelors brought." His lips curved.

They moved across the ballroom until Chuck spotted them. "Her. I do know Blair Waldorf."

Petra turned to him. "You're friends?"

"The best," was his answer.

"What a lovely coincidence!" Petra wiggled her fingers while waving at Marcus.

When Marcus saw them, he led Blair to them. "Mrs Bertinov, lovely to see you."

Petra gestured towards Chuck. "Such a small world. Look, Ms Waldorf. Here's your best friend from Manhattan. He saw the lights and voila. Like a moth to the flame, no?" She chuckled.

"Where's Serena?" she said, making conversation.

"She didn't know I was leaving. Probably freaking out right now," he answered. Even with the fact that this last action pissed her off infinitely, she had to grin at that.

Chuck extended his hand towards Marcus. "Chuck Bass."

"Marcus Beacham-Rhodes."

"I know." He turned to Blair. "May I have this dance?"

Blair looked up at Marcus, who shrugged. "What an amazing week, right, Blair? Seems like we keep running into your New York friends every party we go to."

She smiled sweetly. "Hopefully this moth doesn't burst into flames just because he got too close."

Petra processed the words, a little delayed because of her brain translation, and then giggled. "I hope so." She turned to Chuck. "Be careful."

"Look at this beauty," was his answer. "For a face like this, I'd gladly crash and burn."

They walked stiffly to the center of the ballroom. Blair narrowed her eyes at him. He placed a hand on her waist, then took her other hand in his and raised it up. "I thought you were leaving." He stepped forward, and she stepped back, then sideways.

He shook his head. "No, Blair. You told me to leave." He whirled her around.

"Then why are you here?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Apart from the type of pain we cause, Nathaniel and I are very different. He might follow orders but I don't. I suspect you found another follower," he nodded towards Marcus. "You really think you can be happy when you're always in control?"

She gritted her teeth. As they turned, she saw Marcus watching them with concern. She assumed that it was the look on her face, and she struggled to keep calm and expressionless. "I live to be in control," she answered.

"Deny it all you want, Blair," he whispered into her ear. "You love it that I'm just a little beyond your control."

She swallowed, but did not answer. She would not give him the satisfaction. Instead, she stopped dancing, then pulled away and smiled. She made a show of thanking him, then walked away.

"Let's see how long you can keep denying us, Blair."

Blair turned around and glared at him, then flushed when the couple dancing beside them looked at her. There was no mistaking the fact that they had heard him. She calmly turned again to walk towards Marcus.

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Blair wrapped the robe tightly around her waist as she walked through the cold cement floor of the spa. When Marcus had dropped by her hotel room to tell her that they would spend their last day in London lounging in a spa, she had been thrilled at the prospect of large luxurious Jacuzzis and day-long massages. What she did not realize was that Marcus had wanted her to experience the full flavor of the Roman baths, and they would be going to two separate public pools that looked so ancient that the stones seemed to crumble beneath her feet.

"It's a perfectly native experience," Marcus reassured her when she almost backed out upon seeing the half dozen half naked men walking in front of her on their way to the pool.

"Is that so? Why is everyone here a foreigner?" she retorted.

"Because it's a popular destination," he answered. "Listen. Relax and enjoy the experience. Don't think about it too much. Afterwards I promise a romantic dinner for two."

Her lips curved as they stopped outside the door of the female baths. "Promise? If I see any of these pale strangers hanging out at our table I might just go home with them. They're so sexy," she teased.

"I promise," he told her. "I wouldn't want my girl stolen away by some undeserving foreigner."

"Glad to hear that," she replied easily. Blair rose on tiptoes and placed a kiss on his chin. "See you in an hour?"

"I'll be right here," he promised.

She walked into the bath area with a smile on her face. Surprisingly enough, the pool was empty. She looked up as a maintenance woman exited the dressing room. "Hi!" she called out.

The woman nodded in greeting. "May I help you, maam?"

"Is it really this empty? The men's public bath too?"

"Oh no, ma'am. This was reserved for you today. Your companion feels you'd be embarrassed with so many people bathing with you."

Blair broke into a large smile. Now this was the type of vacation she was used to. "Great. Thank you."

The woman left the area and Blair smiled. She shrugged out of her bathrobe and let it fall to the cement floor, then turned towards the pool in only two piece red bikini, chosen mistakenly when she thought this afternoon was going to be a romp with her new boyfriend in a tiled spa.

As she slowly dipped her entire body in a pool, Blair closed her eyes and moaned in the delicious satisfaction of the warm water lapping at her skin. "Wow." Despite the rather disgusting appearance of old stones, the water had it. This was why people flocked to the baths on other days when it wasn't reserved for Blair. And how adorable of Marcus to reserve it just for her. But if he did reserve the baths for their private use, why did he not just go and stay over here rather than with all those strangers?

Blair leaned her head back against the side of the pool and breathed deeply, feeling the warm water relax her tight muscles. Her lips curved and her hands slid slowly to the strings on her top. They didn't call these Roman baths for her to act all conservative. Besides, she needed something to write on her journal.

Blair pulled the strings and the red top fell from her breasts. She tossed the bikini top onto the ground. Underwater, her breasts felt wonderful naked. This was one of those things she wouldn't have been able to do in the States.

"Enjoying the privacy, I see."

Her eyes flew open and she looked up to see Chuck Bass leaning over her with her bikini in his hand.

"Chuck, what are you doing here?" she demanded. Blair was really getting tired of asking that question.

"I paid for the entire area blocked off for your use. I might as well make the most out of that money."

She hastily covered her breasts with her arms. Given the clear quality of the water, she knew he could see right through it. "You're responsible for this?"

He smirked, then jumped into the water with a splash. "For a rich guy, Lord Marcus doesn't have an idea of the style you're accustomed to. Public baths?" He shuddered with disgust. "Fortunately for you, I know you."

Blair stuck out her hand. "Hand me my top, please."

Chuck lifted the flimsy red cloth in the air between them, then dropped it. Blair caught it with both hands, giving him a glimpse of her breasts. "Gorgeous," he murmured.

"Chuck!" she shrieked in frustration. "You're an asshole." Blair whirled around and then dunked herself underwater and tied her bikini top back on. When she rose, her entire face was wet and her hair was dripping. She bet she looked like a wet kitten, completely unattractive. "You knew this was my date with Marcus. I can't believe you're here to ruin it."

"I'm here to take back what's mine. You're still my girlfriend, Blair. In case you forget, we never broke up," he pointed out. He reached for her elbow, then pulled her towards him. The 

flimsy cloth of her bikini did little to keep her from feeling the warmth of his bare, wet skin. "Do you have any idea how it feels to wake up one day and see your stepsister looking through emailed pictures of my girlfriend out and about with another guy?"

Angrily, she pulled her arm away. "You're an arrogant bastard, you know that? You stood me up; did God knows what with a woman named Amelia; and you stroll back into my life telling me that I'm suddenly your girlfriend!"

"I'm sorry, okay? Are you satisfied?"

She didn't know why that statement overwhelmed her. Blair took a deep breath and released it with an audible sigh. "I give up, Chuck."

He paused. "What does that mean?"

"I give up. On you. On us. Is that clearer? If you think I never broke up with you, then maybe it's time I make things clear." She noticed the change in his expression, and she knew him enough not to want to watch this. Blair blinked back tears as she turned her face away for the rest of it. "I'm breaking up with you."

With that, she stepped away from him and started swimming to the opposite end of the pool. The water washed away the tears that she couldn't keep from seeping. When her hands reached the other end, she stood back up in the water and turned out. And he was gone.

'That was it? After his speech about going after her, taking her back, being his? After haunting her from country to country? That was anticlimactic…'

The door swung open, and Blair held her breath. She looked up, expecting Chuck to stride back in and yell at her about her stupidity, her lack of good judgment, her new boyfriend's pathetic knowledge of how to treat her well. Her heart fell just a little when Marcus walked in wearing shorts, his torso glistening with water.

"I just heard that you were all alone here," he told her.

Blair nodded, glad at least that her tears had mixed with the water. "Yeah. Looks like there's no female tourist as excited about bathing in public as there are male tourists."

"Imagine that."

He dove into the water and swam towards her in no time, and Blair admired his upper body strength. "I wish we didn't have to go back to France tonight," he gasped upon reaching her.

She gave him a prim smile. "You shouldn't be here, Marcus. This is the women's bath."

"Sorry," he breathed.

"That's alright," she answered.

As Marcus rose from the water, with water sluicing down his back, she dove back into the water willing to drown out images of her ex-boyfriend from her brain.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

Part 7

She watched the miles upon miles of vineyards fly by the window as Marcus drove them back to her father's chateau. His convertible was very sexy. None of her two other ex-boyfriends actually drove anything, partly because she dated one mostly before he was old enough to drive and partly because both lived in Manhattan where it was too much of a hassle to drive yourself. Besides, they could all afford to pay someone else to do the work for them, so why bother? Either way, Blair laid her arm on the window and smiled at the sensation of the wind whipping at her face.

She checked the knot under her chin, for the scarf she used to protect her hair. This was everything she had hoped for when she was a little girl watching Audrey Hepburn movies late into the night. She was in Europe, riding a convertible in the countryside, with a gentleman beside her. She glanced at Marcus' profile silhouetted and shadowed by the sun behind him.

"You're beautiful," she said matter-of-factly. "It's weird."

Marcus' eyebrow arched and he turned to her. "Beautiful is not a word I often hear describing me." She smiled, then nodded towards the road. He focused back on his driving. To Blair's surprise, he slowed the car and pulled up on the side of the road, with the chateau still a small image in the distance. They stopped and Marcus turned his body to her. "And you're beautiful," he continued, taking her hands in his.

Blair sighed and smiled. "Thank you." She pulled her hands away and faced the road again. When he didn't start the car, she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at Marcus.

"Blair, what are you doing?"

She frowned. "What am I doing?" she repeated.

"Do you want to be here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously not," she retorted. "My God, Marcus, we've got the roof down and the sun is right there." Blair pointed to the sky. "My sunscreen is not in my purse. I don't want to come home completely burned and blotchy."

He shook his head. "Not what I mean, Blair. You've been preoccupied the entire weekend," Marcus told her. "Something on your mind?"

"Nothing," she hastily blurted out. When Marcus still did not respond, and Blair just knew that he was watching her, asking himself questions, she sighed. It was tough to date someone older. They constantly thought problems existed where there was none. She thought she was done with all the drama when she and Nate broke up! "Marcus, really, I just miss home," she assured him. "Think about it. You're a perfect gentleman. What could possibly be wrong?"

With a curt nod, Marcus started the car and drove to the Waldorf chateau. Blair hastily got out of the car even before Marcus could make his way from his side to hers. Chuck was probably going to be watching for them from the window, and she did not want the trouble of Chuck Bass angrily glaring at her for any show of affection he witnessed between her and Marcus.

Immediately, when Marcus stopped in front of her, she looked up at the window. Empty. "Thank God," she muttered. At least Chuck was moving on. She made her way into the foyer and frowned. The house seemed so empty. "Where's everyone?" she asked to no one in particular.

Marcus looked around and noticed that the coat hanger was empty as well. "It looks like your father and Roman aren't here either," he observed.

"This doesn't make sense. They knew we were coming back today. They shouldn't have been here waiting."

Just as Blair was supposed to storm up the stairs and check the rooms, she felt a tug on her hand that sent her straight into Marcus' arms. "Hey."

She looked up at him, whose earlier frustration had now smoothed into a smile. "Hey yourself," she replied.

"We haven't been alone like this before," he told her.

She gave him a lopsided smile. "Well I thought the whole point of our weekend in London was to be alone." Blair shrugged her shoulders. "Not my fault your family had to be around all the time. Were they scared that I would take advantage of you?" she teased.

"I think they were scared for my virtue," he parried back.

Blair eyes fluttered closed, and she inhaled deeply in preparation for the kiss, feeling her lips pucker on their own. This was what fairy tales were made of—a grand staircase, a blue-blood holding you in his arms. He buried his fingers in her hair and placed a kiss on her earlobe, then trailed slowly along the line of her jaw. She felt the cold air on her lips and she opened her eyes.

And now Marcus was looking down at her with a smile. Blair frowned. "That's it?"

Marcus' brows furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"Frankly, Marcus, that wasn't very passionate," she pointed out.

"You're a lady, and I'm a gentleman. I respect you to much to be all over you. Just because there are no chaperones in the house—"

Blair sighed. She smiled. Maybe this was how it was to date someone with real breeding. Nate Archibald and Chuck Bass may be New York Elite, but Anne Vanderbilt was the only one with 

class in that marriage and Bart Bass was new money. "You're right," she capitulated. "Thank you, Marcus."

He nodded. "You'll be fine here alone? You can stay with me."

"I'm sure my dad is going to be home soon," she assured him.

Marcus nodded and took her hand in his, then brushed a kiss across her knuckles. When he left, Blair took her phone out of her pocket then dialed her father's phone number.

"Dad? Where's everyone?" A pause. "Oh my God! Is he alright?" Blair raced down the stairs to where her weekend bags still sat, fresh from London. She grabbed the one that contained her essentials, then sat outside. "I'm calling a cab," she said into the phone. "Dad, tell him I'll be right there. Can you buy me a ticket?"

It was the first time in years that he looked fragile to Blair. Always, Chuck Bass was such an imposing figure that he completely dominated the room. This time, seeing him seated in the front pew all alone while Lily shook the hands of their newly arrived guests, Chuck looked small and vulnerable.

His hand rose to quickly comb his hair back with his fingers. Once that was done, he was back to that unmoving statue that stoically stared ahead, his eyes focused on the wreath of white flowers that were so grand that they took up most of view.

"Blair!"

She turned around to see Serena, dressed all in white, run to her. She opened her arms to hug her best friend. "How is he?" she whispered into the blonde's ear.

"Since our hasty departure from France, he hasn't eaten. And the only thing he would even talk about is the arrangements that his father had made. He's so detached."

Blair nodded and made her way to Lily. She murmured her condolences. Gracious as ever, Lily thanked Blair for coming especially since she knew that the young woman wasn't due back for another two weeks. "With Nate away, I'm so glad Chuck had someone to talk to." Idly, Blair wondered if her ex-boyfriend was planning on coming, or if he even knew. Once her father told her, she had immediately decided to fly home and had been unable to tell Nate.

Blair made her way down the aisle towards Chuck. Once she was standing close enough, she laid a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, then slowly, turned his head around and faced up to see who had touched him. The firm set of his jaw and the tears brimming in his eyes that still he would not shed spoke volumes of how he felt, even if, as Serena said, he had talked about nothing but the formalities of the occasion. His eyes flickered with surprise at the sight of Blair. She gave him a small smile, then walked around him to sit beside him on the hard wooden pew.

When she was beside him, she reached for his hand that rested on his thigh. Blair pulled it to her lap and closed both of her hands around it. Chuck turned his hand palm up and allowed her to lace her fingers through them. Blair squeezed his hand.

Slowly, his eyes moved from the steady gaze he had on the flowers down to where their hands were intertwined. Then he looked down at the floor, still silent, seemingly glaring down at the innocent marble.

Blair moved closer to him until she was pressed beside him. She took a deep breath and rested her cheek against his shoulder. Bart's coffin in front of them gleamed under the yellow lights. She felt Chuck bury his face in her hair, and she closed her eyes. Amidst the muffled noises of people coming and going, and Lily's voice as she spoke with the visitors, Blair heard from Chuck finally—from small, soft sniffles that turned into quiet tears. A million years later, she raised her head and looked at him, his eyes swollen and his lips grim. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she told him.

Chuck laid his forehead on hers and nodded. He inhaled deeply. "Thank you for coming. I—I know you had plans—"

"It wasn't ever a choice," she told him. "I was always going to come."

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

Part 8

It had been two weeks since his father passed away, and Chuck was often overwhelmed with back to back meetings that his father's attorneys set up with him. Lily van der Woodsen-Bass served as his guardian and companion on all the meetings, and Blair was grateful for that. She and Chuck had settled into a tentative friendship out of necessity.

Or that was what she told herself.

Friends, after all, would wait in another friend's room so that after a long and exhausting day, he had a smile to come home to. And then she would let him complain about the amount of work he had to do for the first ten minutes before she shut him up by turning on a movie and placing the volume high.

"You do know I'm not Serena," he commented wryly.

She rolled her eyes. "The thought occurred to me, Bass."

"Why can't you buy better movies from the mall? I mean, why does it always have to be old romantic movies?" Chuck rested back on the couch and laid his arm on the back of the couch.

She arched an eyebrow. "I don't see you planning any of these, so shut up and watch." She settled in beside him. Her phone vibrated in her bag, and the low thrumming noise was audible to them. She reached for the phone and glanced at the display, then chose Ignore.

"Who was that?"

"Kati," she replied. "I'm not interested in some idle gossip right now."

Chuck's lips curved. "I'm flattered."

"Don't be," she retorted, then settled back beside him. Her phone rang again. "Ugh." She leaned forward and hit the red button again. "If it's so important, send a text message, Kati," she muttered for Chuck's benefit. She powered off the phone.

His eyebrow arched. "Aren't you going to slowly die without your connection to the outside world?"

Blair shrugged. "You've got a phone in this suite. We're connected," she told him. "But it's movie night with a friend."

He shook his head. "You do realize that I'm okay? I don't need a chaperone. I'm not depressed. You're not going to find me dead the next morning if you decide to have a life."

She screwed her lips, then looked at him sideways. "I'm not that vain," she retorted. "I do know that movie night is reserved for you. And I've been doing all the work!"

Chuck smirked, for the moment forgetting all the decisions that Lily had asked him to make. Blair spoke as if she had been planning for movies and snacks for years when the standing date only began a week ago, right after Bart's interment. "You want me to plan for tomorrow night?" he offered.

She looked at him, then saw humor in his gaze. Her eyes narrowed. "Don't entertain any of your disgusting ideas."

He shrugged. "Leave it all to me."

Blair leaned towards him, right under the crook of his arm. "I won't watch porn," she warned. By then he could not complain anymore so she picked up the bowl and tossed popcorn into his mouth. "Ooooh." Blair tugged at his sleeve and pointed at the screen.

Even with her command, he could not take his eyes off her face as she watched wide-eyed. "Amazing," he murmured.

"I know, right!" she exclaimed. "This is the best part," she whispered. It was Olivia de Haviland and Errol Flynn; she was a lady and he was a swashbuckler. Errol Flynn swung from the curtains and Olivia waited for him to sweep her into his arms. "Look, her fiancé is running after them. And he's a prince and so nice, but she goes and decides to be swept up by Errol Flynn—who is way hot and more exciting."

"Really?" Chuck grinned as Blair squealed the moment the female lead swooned in the arms of the dangerous male lead. "Isn't that stupid?"

Blair turned in his arms and told him, "The prince was a snooze!"

He opened his mouth to respond, to ask her if that meant that she did not believe in perfect partners anymore. Before he could speak, her phone rang.

"Hello!" she chirped. "Daddy!" Blair stood from the couch, excused herself and walked towards the kitchen.

"Hey sweetheart," her father's voice came. "I was wondering if you need me to pick you and Nate up at the CDG."

"Nate?" she repeated. "Dad, Nate's there in France."

Right then, the doorbell rang and Chuck walked to the door, expecting room service to arrive with their dinner. Instead, Blair saw that it was indeed Nate, in the oddest timing possible.

"Chuck, man, I'm sorry," Nate said.

Chuck accepted the handshake from his best friend, who made his way back to the States two weeks after his father died. "Glad you could make it."

Nate flushed, then stepped inside the room. "I wish I could have been here sooner."

"You don't have to apologize," Chuck said smoothly, even though he wondered what family obligations could have possibly kept Nate a half month back when his best friend's father had died.

Nate's gaze landed on the popcorn bowl on the coffee table. There were two glasses half full of soda. "Someone here with you?" His eyes went to the movie playing on the screen. He recognized the film quality and the actors. "Blair," he recognized.

Blair stepped out of the kitchen carrying a bottle of diet Coke. She noticed the new arrival and gave Nate a lopsided smile. "Hey Nate."

"You haven't been answering my calls."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I probably didn't hear them." Her eyes met Chuck's amused ones. "The movie was loud," she reasoned. The actress screamed in fright on the screen, and the volume was barely audible. "Not now. I mean, obviously Chuck turned down the volume," she stammered. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" she rushed.

Nate blinked, delayed in processing everything that she had said. When he registered it all, he gave her a brilliant smile. "I'm here to pick you up and bring you back to France."

"I'm not going back, Nate."

"There's still a week left before school. You can spend it with your dad."

She shook her head. "Nate, I hope my dad didn't send you back here. I'm not going back. I'm staying here until school."

Nate seemed disappointed for a moment, and then he lightened. "You broke it off with Marcus?" At the question, Chuck seemed more interested.

"I've told him that I'm staying. He's coming here early for his internship." She stepped closer to Nate and placed a hand on his chest. "I'm sorry we couldn't hang out like I promised. Don't worry though. We'll visit you next summer."

"Do you want to stay and watch the movie with us?"

Nate looked up to see Chuck offering with a small smile. He shook his head. "No," he answered. "No, it's fine. I should go and check on my mom, see if she needs anything before she packs up for her move too."

"I'll walk you to the door," came Chuck's smooth reply.

"Chuck," Nate started. "I'm really sorry I couldn't come earlier. It's just with the move, and my dad—"

"Understood completely, Nathaniel," he answered. "You were busy. I'm glad you decided to also pick Blair up when you were finally free enough to visit your best friend."

Nate flushed at the obvious spin that Chuck had placed in the situation. "If you ever need anyone to talk to—"

"I can call you," Chuck finished for him.

Nate nodded. Chuck closed the door and walked back to the living room, where Blair was already seated on the couch. She looked up when he entered, then patted the space beside her. Chuck grinned then sauntered to the couch. They settled back to watch the movie.

"So Marcus is coming tomorrow?" he said lightly.

Blair nodded. "I'm meeting him for coffee after he reports for his internship at the UN. So I won't have time to prepare for movie night."

"I'll take care of it," he assured her, knowing full well that there was an eighty percent chance that she was going to cancel on the evening with him. "I'll do you one better. I'll pick you up in the morning and give you a ride to the UN office."

"Really?"

"You've been so helpful this whole time. The least I could do is make sure you don't have to sit in a taxi when there's a luxurious limo readily available to you."

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

AN: This will be finished. And I gotta admit. I'm really just having fun now. I started this way before S2 opened, so the characterization of Marcus (even his name) was different. Even Chuck's reaction to Bart's death was different. So I'm letting the story ride for now, so I can wrap it up. Hope you like it anyway.

Part 9

The air between them hung heavy with words still left unsaid. Despite the tenuous friendship they had established, every time they were alone together, Blair felt the palpable tension that thickened the air. But there had never been more between her and Chuck than two failed attempts to be together.

Maybe it was because of that last argument she had had with Marcus.

His kisses were always like gentle little waves teasing the foot of a sandcastle. But when Chuck kissed, like he did at the stairway of her father's chateau—Blair released her breath in a slow exhale. Her eyes flickered to Chuck's lips.

Chuck kissed like the tsunami out of a disaster movie. Afterwards you would either be slammed back into rocks so hard you'd be dead, or you would be kicking and suffocating, paddling towards the light and the air.

How was it that her mind could still entertain thoughts of his kisses when she had such a perfect boyfriend? It was not every day that guys like Marcus Beacham Rhodes came along. Marcus would never abandon her like Chuck did. Marcus would do everything Chuck would not.

"How long is this internship for?" he asked her, bringing her out of her reverie.

"Two months," she answered.

"So he's going back to the mother country."

Blair's gaze flickered to Chuck. She slowly shook her head. "Marcus is thinking of moving here. He still has to get permission from his father." This was a man willing to stay—more than her father, more than Nate, more than Chuck. She was never a risktaker, and Marcus Beacham Rhodes was no risk at all.

Chuck licked his lips, and her eyes fell to the movement of his tongue. "Are you happy, Blair?"

She refused to meet his gaze. Blair looked out the window of the limo and saw them approaching a line of tall flags from dozens of countries lining the fences of the building. "I have an aristocrat for a boyfriend, who's head over heels in love with me," was her answer.

The limo stopped at the gates, and Blair already spotted Marcus jogging to the front to meet her. The door lock popped open, and she grabbed the latch to open the door. Before she could pull, he caught her arm. "That wasn't an answer to my question," he reminded her.

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she said, "Wasn't it, Chuck?"

She pulled at the latch, and before she could push the door open, Marcus had waved off the chauffeur and opened the door for her. She smiled gaily, ignored the rush of tears that threatened to choke her, and cupped his face. They shared a brief kiss and he was pulling her with him towards the building for a tour.

Marcus showed his pass to the guard at the entrance. While he explained her presence, Blair turned around to gaze at the heavily tinted limo windows as the vehicle waited outside the gates. In her mind she could imagine Chuck right behind that window, watching her. And then the limo started and rolled away.

"So," she said to Marcus as he signed on a logbook, "where are we off to?"

"I wanted you to see my little desk," he said, his voice filled with pride. "My first desk in the United Nations. I'll get a bigger desk in time. You'll see."

Blair gave him a small smile, then nodded. Forcing enthusiasm into her voice, she said, "Of course you are. You'll have a nice big office in no time." Her eyes drifted to the empty street. She turned a bright smile at Marcus. "Let's see it."

She didn't always walk alone, she thought. And now, here she was, walking into the cold shadowed halls of an office that many of the students from Constance would die to be in. She had a count holding her hand. Blair was pretty sure Marcus would be an important man someday. Maybe, just maybe he could be secretary general.

And if she was good, and loyal, and intelligent, then maybe he would never ever leave.

-

That smile. Chuck had seen that smile many times before. Blair used to smile up at Nate just like that. And then Chuck would smirk at her in private and find out from the lips of the Queen B herself, that the smile hid more hurt than she ever let on. She would snap at Chuck, not because of something he did, but because of something that Nate did not do. And he would spend an afternoon teasing her, taunting, testing to see how much she could take until she stomped away and pushed him out of her room.

And then he would remember his last comment because it was a clue that hinted on exactly what she would not let pass when it came to her perfect boyfriend.

Chuck had brought out too much of Blair Waldorf only to have her retreat behind the smile again. Different men, different circumstances, and still she hid behind the same fake smile.

No wonder she could not answer his question. That Blair Waldorf was not happy.

He flipped open his phone and dialed his stepsister's phone number. "Serena, you're on my side, aren't you?"

"Wait," the voice on the other line said nervously, "on what issue? Because I swear, Chuck, if you're in jail right now…"

"Relax, sis," he drawled. "I'm in the comfort of my own limo."

He heard a ding, and the noise of a cash register being slammed shut. Obviously, she was shopping. He could interrupt shopping, especially if she was using a Bass credit card.

"So what is this about?" Serena sighed into the phone.

And finally he admitted, and it gave Serena enough ammunition against him to use should she need it. "Blair." There was a pause. He was nervous with pauses. With Serena's pauses. Especially Blair's pauses. "So?"

"I'm not on your side!" she gasped, but there was a thrill in her voice that he noticed. "I'm on Blair's side."

"Fine," he responded. "If you're really on your side, you won't find it difficult to help me. I want to get her away from Lord Marcus."

"What do you have in mind?" Serena asked.

His face split into a big rare grin. "I'm sensing you don't like the count."

She sighed into the phone. "Marcus in great," Serena told him. "He's nice and generous and he treats my best friend like a princess. Which is more than I can say about you."

Chuck winced. He did not need a list of Marcus' fine attributes. Blair had already given him a rundown. "Then why are you willing to help?"

"Blair's bored," Serena offered. "And when Blair's bored, I can't escape her. And she's stiff. When you two were about to leave, she made some sick, perverted joke that you're the only one who can relax her."

Somehow, the thought of the Queen B making a sleazy comment involving him made him a little bit proud.

That pause again, the pause that tried to make a point—the pause that irritated Chuck. "And then you stood her up."

If the two of them just stopped mentioning about that unfortunate decision, it would be better for all concerned. Chuck let it go, for the moment, and asked, "So will you help me?"

"What do you want me to do?"

--

"Thank you," Blair said to Marcus when he pulled her chair for her. "You are such a gentleman."

"I learned a lot from my father," Marcus told Blair. "One of those lessons is how to treat a lady."

She smiled sweetly at him, and imagined he was more interesting. If he were to become secretary general of the UN in the future, he would be a lot more compelling. And he would have lots of stories to tell her. If only for that, she should try to hold on to the relationship.

"Blair, isn't that your friend whom we saw in England?"

Why did he have to say 'whom'? She was already uptight with school, but she didn't distinguish between who and whom in oral communication.

Blair turned around, and spotted Chuck Bass strolling in a ridiculous black suit that shone under the light. She blinked. "Yes it is," she said. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of a blonde trophy he had on his arm. Chuck did have a thing for blondes early the year before. She turned her back on the sight and told Marcus, "You're right. That's Chuck Bass."

'Well isn't this splendid!" Marcus exclaimed. "Such a small world."

She shook her head furiously. She did not any more occasions when Chuck would be standing next to Marcus, showing her everything he had whispered to her in London, and seemed to have forgotten since her return to New York. "I wanted to spend the night with just the two of us," she said. "We just arrived."

"Alright," Marcus said agreeably.

Blair smiled. The waiter placed a bottle of wine on their table. Marcus looked up in confusion. "We haven't ordered anything yet."

"Courtesy of Mr Bass, sir."

Marcus looked up at Chuck from above Blair's head, then raised his hand in thanks. "It seems very discourteous that we don't at least pass by to thank the man," Marcus said in a hushed voice.

"Then go ahead. I'm a little tired," Blair said. "I'll call him later."

Marcus excused himself, politely but that was no surprise. Blair turned around and watched with hooded eyes as Marcus extended a hand to Chuck. When Chuck shook her boyfriend's hand, he met her eyes.

"Miss Waldorf," she turned around and saw the blonde that Chuck had arrived with holding out a bouquet of roses to her. "Mr Bass wants you to have these."

Blair's eyes narrowed, and her lips curved at the realization. Chuck was back in fighting form.

Marcus returned to their table a few minutes later. At the sight of the flowers, he frowned. "Those are beautiful."

"They're from Chuck, just like the wine."

Marcus glanced up again. "Tell me, Blair, is it customary for a friend to give flowers to a girl who's on a date with someone else?"

Blair grinned. "Absolutely not!"

Just once she wanted to see Marcus Beacham Rhodes react like a man. And she wanted to see, for Italy and for France, Chuck get punched. It would take his mind away for a second, at the very least, from what happened to his dad.

"Well," Marcus huffed, "that shows his breeding, does it not?"

If she were a cartoon, she would have been picking up her jaw from the floor. Blair released the breath she held, then said, "Marcus, this isn't working for me."

The count sputtered in his seat. "What?"

She stood up and gave him a lopsided smile. "Are you really surprised? It hasn't been working even in France."

Marcus shot up from his seat, then tossed his napkin on the table. "Because you couldn't feel passion?" Marcus asked. "Because I wasn't groping you?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

And then, the count grabbed her arms and pulled her against him, in full view of the restaurant. Blair found herself paralyzed under the onslaught of his kiss. Marcus' lips parted, and his tongue teased her lips, coaxing her to part them.

And then she could suck in a large breath of air, and she saw Marcus stumble, crashing into the table, sprawling onto the floor. Blair stared open-mouthed at the crumpled count. Her gaze rose and she saw Chuck Bass, in his sparkling splendor, standing over Marcus Beacham Rhodes, shaking his hand and hissing in pain.

She stifled a grin.

Passion.

tbc


End file.
